


It realy was our finest hour

by ExcellentlyEllen



Series: The songs we sing, the lyrics we live by [2]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-07
Updated: 2014-04-07
Packaged: 2018-01-18 12:49:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1429165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExcellentlyEllen/pseuds/ExcellentlyEllen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>chapter 2</p>
            </blockquote>





	It realy was our finest hour

**Author's Note:**

> So,this song (just because..) gets 2 chapters.   
> So, this one, same song (Finest Hour by Gavin Degraw), totally different plot.  
> Disclaimer: Again, sadly do not own any of the characters, but I wouldn’t mind owning Oliver, if you catch my drift ;)
> 
>  
> 
> What would happen if our hunky hero’s went on… a bachelor party? (In this story, I included Roy, because it would be so sad to only have one guy to go on your bachelor party with, right? And let’s face it, Roy looks like a heap of laughs when drunk..)

He woke up feeling really uncomfortable. Like, really, really uncomfortable. He opened one eye, only to find, nothing. It was pitch black around him. For a minute he panicked, but then he heard soft snoring on his right somewhere. When he tried to move, he could feel all sorts of soreness. He felt like he’d been dropkicked down a ravine, which he really had been, once. 

His head bounced, like his brains were doing the samba. And his stomach tried to rumba at the same time. Oh right, bachelor party last night. He tried to search his memory, but could only picture the same blackness that surrounded him right now. Hangovers really were the worst. He could take being kicked and stabbed and shot any day, but a hangover was an entirely different kind of hell. A good thing he didn’t plan on having another bachelor party, ever.

Thinking the soft snores were coming from his wife to be, he crawled over to the sound. Murmuring good morning in her ear and rubbing his hand on the small of her back, he jumped when he heard What the hell! In a distinctly non female voice. Roy punched his shoulder, sending new waves of pain though is body, from head to toe. Okay, now he was really confused. Where the hell was he anyway, and why was Roy here? 

He patted his pockets to find his phone, and flipped on the flashlight. He was lying on a blue mat. That sparked a memory. The three of them, drunk off their ass coming down to the foundry to go a few rounds. All of a sudden the foundry was bathed in light, and he heard the sound of heels click-clacking down the stairs. Oh no! He was so done for!

When she came into view, he could immediately see she was trying really hard not to burst out in laughter. Tried and failed miserably. He looked around the room, to see Diggle on his left totally oblivious to the world around him. And Roy to his right, still wearing an angry frown from being woken up like that. 

He shifted is attention back on his lovely bride to be, trying to focus on what she was saying. Something about drunk dialing and texting photo’s. She walked over to the computer and plugged in her phone. Pulling up the file of pictures she clicked them into ‘slideshow’ mode.  
The first one wasn’t that bad. Just Digg, Roy and him all dressed up, ready to go out on the town. They got progressively worse after that though. The next few were of him going around the club collecting phone numbers. He had argued about that, there was only one phone number he needed after all, and he knew that by heart. But Roy had insisted, if they were to do the whole bachelor party thing, they had to do it right, and that meant: games. He figured he and Thea had probably come up with them together, seeing as his sister knew how much he hated those.

And there was one picture of him counting his ‘winnings’ at the bar. He vaguely remembered there being 20-ish numbers.

The following picture he had to blink a few times to understand, it was of him, on his knee, holding a totally unfamiliar girl’s hand. And a line of woman behind her, and a few behind him. The ones standing in front of him, all had a very excited look on their faces. The one’s behind him, all looked like the might burst into tears. He tried to remember why. Then it dawned on him. The shirt he was wearing. The front said: Will you marry me? And the back had a picture of him also on his knee, holding a ring box in front of his actual fiancée. 

There were some pictures of bottles, some of which had very little content left. And selfies. Om my god, did he really take selfies ? 

The later the night, the scarier the pictures got. There was one of him and Roy, on top of a car playing air-guitar, with something that looked suspiciously like a mop on his head. There was one of Digg rolling on the ground laughing his ass off. And there was a short movie (taken by Roy, it looked like) of the three of them running away, laughing hysterically, from the angry car owner. 

The next one was of his car. Well, one of his cars, wrapped around what looked to be a statue of some sort. A statue in a red hoodie? That couldn’t be right. Oh, OH he thought as id dawned on him that it wasn’t a statue at all.

After that he saw a picture of the.. subway? And him appearing to be asleep in one of the seats. Yuck.

The one after the subway looked to be in some dingy bar, with him and Digg playing darts. Oh, okay, that’s not so bad he thought by himself. Until he saw a picture of himself, aiming at the electrical box, instead of the dartboard. The next picture was just really dark. Well, good to know that even drunk, his aim was still spot on.

He tried to sit up, without making the foundry spin too much. When he was sitting he saw some paper lying beside him. He picked them up, and suppressed a growl. A good thing he was loaded, because that receipt was high enough to bankrupt a regular person. Judging by the number of shots they did, they had been going for the world record.

He almost missed the last 2 pictures that she was showing him. Digg and Roy and Roy and him fighting each other on the very mats he was sitting on. Well, that explained the soreness and bruises for sure. 

He’d heard Roy muttering and laughing under his breath all through the slideshow, especially hard with the final 2 pictures. Oliver snorted at that. Because, let’s be honest, even with the Mirakuru in his system there would be no way in hell he could have beaten Oliver when sober.

At the sound of laughter, Diggle shot up, immediately crouching in a defensive stance. His eyes went wide for a minute, taking in his surroundings and he dropped himself back down on the mat. Uttering a few low groans, the pleaded for aspirin and water.

She let out a soft chuckle as she went around the room handing pills and water to both Digg and Roy, before stopping to crouch in front of Oliver. He looked up into those beautiful blue pools and saw the laughter and love shining in them. She placed a hand on his cheek and he leaned into it, amazed by the way her presence and her touch could make him instantly feel better. She rubbed his cheek a little and then got up, leaving him just a little bit colder. As he always was when she was not close enough.

“How about you three take the day, hu. Get yourself together. We’ve got a rather big day tomorrow, and with the way you all are looking now, you’d ruin my wedding pictures.” And with that, she turned on her heels, walked up the stairs and out of the basement. 

Oliver sighed and fell backwards on the mat again. His eyes closing he imagined it being tomorrow. The beginning of the rest of his life. He imagined himself standing under the hoopa in the garden behind his parent’s house. The chairs al lined along the center aisle, which was donned in a white carpet and had white and rose petals all over it. And he imagined her, walking towards him, that little grin on her face, her golden hair in loose curls under the veil. And he imagined her ‘I do’.

The final image that crossed his mind, right before he drifted off to sleep again, was that of a big bed, them lying in the middle of it, gazing in each other’s eyes. Blue on blue. Hearts pounding in sync. He murmuring her name, the way she likes it. “Felicity…”


End file.
